Walls
by Atheniandream
Summary: He doesn't care about this Ex, of hers. This Fiancee. *Season Seven* One-shot.


_Author's Notes: I've been writing a lot of segments. Over the years, I think I've just written Harvey and Donna TOO much. I'll try and finish Seven soon. But as it stands, I appear to have written a lot of fics over the years that have no real ending. I blame the writers. (Kidding it's totally my fault, although the show hasn't helped, always coming up trumps when I least expect.)_

 _I'm going with smaller chapters this time. We'll see what 708 shows up._

 _ **This is for the shippers.** So many are jumping ship now - to the water - let's hope that Season 7 keeps the ship afloat._

 _A__

* * *

 ** _Walls_**

 _By Atheniandream_

* * *

 _Just had a breakthrough_

 _I'm used to being your number two_

 _I play the sidekick_

 _Let you decide, know we're the perfect fit_

 _Let the flame die out and rip the bandaid off_

 _So slow that you can feel it b-u-urning, b-u-urning_

 _Don't want that sad goodbye, let's keep it low key_

 _'Cause every love story's a g-host story, g-host story_

' ** _Fake Friends_** ' By Sigrid.

* * *

 _He just can't take it anymore._

He can _feel_ it.

The _ache_ of her absence.

She's mere feet away from him and and yet she feels twenty thousand miles away.

 _He's not stupid._

They run in this fluid parallel that has kept his heart beating longer than he ever thought capable.

And he's not arrogant enough to admit that he offered her an office next to his, because he needed her.

 _She wanted it._

 _And he budged an inch._

 _But he needs her._

 **Always.**

And now he's aware…. _of why_. He had been, before. But he needed her council _more_. Her assurances and her brokering of his choices. He wasn't ready to go it alone, and although he can, _now,_ he still _isn't_.

Now, he looks at her, and he feel this...longing. Like kissing her could calm his entire universe in a New York minute.

And she's always been beautiful. He's not dumb. At first, it was almost as if she was too smart to be hot. But hot, _she was_. He had fallen for her instantly. And he can't deny _that._

Nowadays, he can deviate from the truth. _They've worked together for ages. For decades. She's his girl Friday. They are a team. They are more than that. The rumours mean nothing. There are more important things to think of._

But really, there are no more important things, _than her._

He longs for her. And not in a frivolous sense.

He knows how she takes her coffee. How she likes her baths. How she'll spend her weekend, without him. Where she's happiest.

Because, _he may not act_ , but he _**does**_ listen. _He's always listened_. And she's _always_ talked.

Not for his benefit. But somehow all the same.

He thinks on freckles. He has a thing for the patterns and pictures that they make in his head. He barely gets to see them. Her face is always covered with make-up, but her arms betray her kind.

He misses them, now, that she is not instrumental in his day. He used to spy on them when she was near, when the nights were long and the alcohol was liberal.

 _Things have changed._

He gets that she needs more. But _he_ needs _**her**_. His world was so perfect as it was, and he would have gladly asked for more on top of that, and raised his chin in pride to anyone that would have questioned him.

 _It's not normal._ But neither are they. She can tell his entire evening with just one visual deduction, and he can be completely overcome by just the mere flick of her wrist. And to trump that, she loves him, and believes in him.

Just.

Like.

His Father.

 _Did._

And she's...attractive. Too much so, for an Assistant, if he thinks upon it for too long.

It is a troublesome notion. That fifteen years ago, they forced themselves together...forever.

But even as she is mad at him, and at a loss, her hair slightly flatter and her gaze unfocused - _**because of him**_ \- he loves her, still.

He loves her, because she is the only one that sticks. The only one that rises above them all with a constant whisper in his mind.

And yet, she has barely raised her voice to object to him, apart from the time he told her that he loved her. And he _does_...love her. Fully, and without prejudice.

He understands why he bailed. Why he seemed so selfish and cold. He wasn't ready, _but he_ _never once_ _suggested that she was wrong_.

He had it all…all her emotional parts. And her confidence. And her care over him. And he could fuck women and think of her and everything was plain sailing as long as she was there with a smirk and a slick comment.

He knows that it was wrong, now. But given his past, it _was_ perfect. And it wasn't because he didn't want her. _He did_. Constantly. He just...chose the perfect compromise. A real way from them to exist, and a solid way from him to keep her. For him to give her everything - he thought she wanted - without getting completely caught up in her, like he knows he would have.

He doesn't care about this _Ex_ , of hers. _This Fiancee_. And he knows that he should. But truthfully, he doesn't care for much, except his job, Mike, Jessica and _**Her**_. They are his constants, not in that order, but treasured independently.

And he'll be damned if he lets a man she she dropped for him, get in the way.

He's behind the eight ball, now. She is distant, and searching. And he is terrified. But the way he feels about her hasn't changed in all the years, from him being a cock-shot District Attorney, and looking at her like she is the one thing in the world that is off limits and yet playing on him, still.

And he knows, that that could be misconstrued as a red flag.

The only trouble is...it didn't diminish after the Other Time. And he wagers that it won't ever diminish.

 ** _He fucked up with her._** And he's spent ten years since, making sure that he has time to make up for that.

Life has just taken over. Responsibilities have overtaken them.

And now his time, has firmly, _run out_.

So when he sits in his apartment, ignoring his girlfriend's calls and longing for red hair and a quick mouth, he knows,

She is the _**end**_ of his journey.

And he will take her one day, and give her everything his heart has been promising them both.

He sips at his drink,

Thinking of her.

Thinking of _**them**_.


End file.
